The Escort Mission
by hamletmustdie
Summary: Determined to prove himself as an Invader worthy of his Tallest's attention, Zim steals a secret mission from one of his fellow Invaders... To escort a young Irken named Dib, assistant to Head Scientist Membrane, to planet Devastis in the wake of trouble with the Resisty. As the two make their way to Devastis, secrets both Irken's are keeping begin catching up to them.
1. Tenn's Mission

_A/N's: So, this is my first real long fic. Funny that it happens to Invader Zim. Anyway, I've always loved tumblr user's rinsfw's artwork for Irken Dib, and they have a particular drawing which is of Zim taking Dib on an escort mission. Since I saw it months ago, I've wanted to write something for it! I have at least four chapters written for this already, and a good idea as to where the story's going._

 _Hmm, well, that's it. No Earth shenanigans in this fic- we're entirely in space! The saddest thing about this fic is that, Gir doesn't have a dog suit…. Tragic._

 _Please enjoy!_

* * *

On the great Resisty ship something terrible had gone awry. A Supreme scientist, in long, grey robes burst through the doors to the captain's quarters. The Resisty's captain, a short Vortian known as Lard-Nar had been speaking with another Vortian named Cleek, a tall red alien who's shell-covered horns were twisted cruelly towards his face. Both he and the captain turned in alarm to face the scientist.

The scientist was nearly out of breath, gasping as he gripped his knees. Sweat beaded his brow, his eyes wide, terrified. "The Terrible, Horrible Doomsday Device that we said could never be stolen,"

" _Yes?"_ Lard-Nar drew forward, terror looming on him.

"It's been _stolen_!" The scientist cried, flinging his arms into the air. A collective of despairing cries filled the captain's chambers. The horror of it all! The device, a terrible, apocalyptic prototype to a future weapon against the Irken empire in the wrong hands..! But whose?! Lard-Nar whirled towards the windows that outlooked the vastness of space.

"No," he growled through the pathetic crying behind him, "this will not sway us! We'll get it back from whatever filthy creature stole it. Do we know anything about the thieves?"

The scientist had begun to retrieve the papers he'd thrown onto the floor in his panic. "Well, sir, the security drones seem to indicate it was an… _Irken soldier_ who took it,"

" _Damnit,_ " Lard-Nar slammed his fist down. The Irken empire, their most terrible enemy, whom they'd sworn to defeat… Somehow, if such a hope were possible. But if the Irken's had located their ship and yet not destroyed it on sight, it meant at least something, didn't it? Perhaps they thought the Resisty to engage head on right now… _Or perhaps they think we are not worth the effort._ That just made him angrier, and ten times more anxious. But yet, the Irken empire had no qualms with going out of their way to squash nobodies….. _Nonetheless!_ He had a secret weapon of his own now. "It doesn't matter who it was, Irken or not. We'll get it back. Is the tracking device within it still online?"

"For now, yes sir, but the further they go, the harder it will be to track… And soon it'll go offline entirely…" Lard-Nar nodded at this news. He turned to the Vortian, Cleek, who had at least two inches of height on him. Strapped over his black Resisty uniform, Cleek wore two spears across his chest; one was hooked and serrated; the other was long and needle-like. He narrowed his eyes.

"The Irken's cannot be allowed to use the Terrible, Horrible Doomsday device. _Ohh,_ we'll get it back alright…" In the captain's quarters, Cleek met his eyes, flashed a horrible sharpened grin. For as a member of the Resisty for the last ten years, he was perhaps their most dangerous soldier - and highest paid bounty hunter, one they'd set on the empire before. He'd made some successful kills in the past, had gotten the empire's attention, and though they didn't know yet who he was, they seemed at least aware that the Resisty was not just some ragtag of fleeing Vortian's and other aliens disgusted by their treatment of literally any species not their own.

In the depths of space, Lard-Nar allowed the scientist to show him where the device was being tracked, and how much time existed between them and whoever had wrongfully stolen it.

* * *

 _MONTHS LATER_

"It had to have been an accident, Zim. Just ask them to assign you something, I'm sure they'll apologize and get it fixed," Optimistic as ever despite his own bad luck, Invader Skoodge sat beside Zim in the cafeteria of Planet Conventia. Zim's arms were crossed tightly over his chest in bitter, smeet-like frustration.

"This is _ridiculous,_ " Zim grumbled beside him. "The second assigning and still they've given me no mission! What do they want me to do, _rot_ on this stupid, overexcited planet…?!"

"Well…" Skoodge considered the facts for a moment. During the First Great Assigning, Zim had been told by the Tallest that he was to prepare for a greater, secretive mission only he could take on. Except the second assigning had already taken place, and Zim with his waiting, malfunctioning SIR unit (that Skoodge had offered several times to repair but Zim was determined nothing was wrong with it), had been told… Nothing. No secret mission had appeared, nor even a promise of said mission. He'd simply been skipped over ,somehow ignored despite his protests. Skoodge had personally just _barely_ conquered his own planet, called Blorch, and he'd been reassigned to another more terrible planet called Squorch. He wondered if the Tallest had some vendetta against him; his assignments were always with the worst guys. _Or perhaps they want me to prove myself…!_ He could only hope.

Still, it disappointed him to see Zim so frustrated. Zim had been among his hatching mates, around his age although just centimeter smaller than him. The tiny Irken was notoriously difficult, angry, and a ball of roiling energy determined to go above and beyond to prove himself, even if that above and beyond was detrimental to anyone watching. Skoodge had seen a lot of these disasters, but still he could see the determination in all of it, and he couldn't help but find it endearing. Plus, he thought Zim was pretty funny and weirdly genius. Strange no one else saw it, too.

"You should really go speak to them, Zim. I'll even help you if you'd like-"

"No! I do not _need_ your help. I'll go myself." Still, he didn't hop from the bench. Zim drummed his fingers against the table; his own tray had been pushed away, untouched. His other claw held his chin, glare fixed on nothing in particular ahead.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Stop asking!"

"Well then, what are you waiting for?"

"Why wasn't Invader _Tenn_ assigned anything?" Zim asked suddenly, lowering his voice just a smidge.

"Huh? Oh, Tenn. Uhh. I dunno." Skoodge shrugged, looking over his shoulder. Among all the invaders and soldiers in the cafeteria, he could see Larb and Spleen sitting in their own little clique. Skutch was there, too. He and Zim were sitting near the corner with a noticeable gap between them and anyone else at the same table. This was a trend that had kept up since their training in the academy. Skoodge was always vaguely aware that if he was alone, other Irkens would approach him, but if he were with Zim, they'd avoid him like a brain parasite. Well, sometimes that's what friendship was all about. Sacrifice or whatever. He didn't mind that much.

"She looked _smug,_ too, like she'd _known something…_ " Zim was hunching forward, claws brought together and eyes narrowed in a familiar way that meant he was cooking up something terrible in that big head of his. "I don't see her anywhere here…"

"Perhaps she was demoted?" Skoodge offered.

"Demoted! HA! We would've heard all about it, you idiot! The Tallest would have made a big deal about it, too, just to humiliate her! And yet I've heard no such thing… No, it's something else…"

"Maaaybe…. She's gonna be on a mission with _you_!" Skoodge grinned, pointing to Zim who shot him a disgusted glare. Skoodge slumped his shoulders, returned to his green and pink dinner of Vortian hot dogs and sporchy pudding. Not his favorite, but he never complained. Zim continued muttering to himself for a long while, putting his head in his hands. Skoodge popped his spoon out of his mouth, frowning.

"Aww, come on, Zim. Don't seem so sad. I'm sure-" Zim slammed his palms down onto the table. Skoodge jumped, the table rattling as Zim leapt to his feet, standing on the bench.

" _That's it_! I will be humiliated _no longer!_ I shall demand their greatest mission from the Tallest and they _will bestow it upon Zim_!" His voice, overloud and booming, carried across the cafeteria drawing attention their way. Skoodge smiled nervously, waving at the eyes stuck on them.

"What the _hell_ are you going on about _now_ , Zim?" A voice from one of the groups of soldiers asked bitterly. If he'd heard the question Zim gave no notion of it as he scampered off, disappearing into the crowd. He had always been so small; it was so easy to lose him. Skoodge watched him go off, growing increasingly anxious as all the eyes remained on him.

"That your friend or something?" An Irken sitting at the far end of the table asked him. Skoodge swallowed.

"Uh. Uh, yeah, yes. He's- um. He's my friend. He's just, you know, uh, excitable." Despite his flaws, Skoodge couldn't let the idea go on that Zim had _no_ friends... That would just be terrible..!

"Huh." The Irken squinted, scooted further away, and whispered something to the Irken's beside him. Skoodge did his best to ignore the giggling hurled his way.

* * *

In the corridors outside of the cafeteria, Zim stomped forward. Blind determination made him grit his teeth. He'd been on this stupid planet for over a year now, and he was already sick of it. All it had to offer was sub-par snacks and booths selling weird artwork and expensive toys. Gir was easily impressed by such meaningless garbage, but not _Zim_!

Since he'd quit his own exile, he'd been waiting on Conventia for a mission worthy of such a powerful Irken. It had yet to come, and he was becoming antsy. And now that the other Irken's had returned from their missions (after such long months! Zim could've completed his _own_ invading mission in half the time, he just knew it!), he'd had to watch them take their new missions, one by one, smiling and grinning, laughing at Zim, who'd stood empty handed… Zim squeezed his fists.

He had been raised his whole life to be an Invader, had even passed the tests in the academy to become one. Sure, he'd _destroyed_ the testing room in a fiery explosion when he'd tried to sharpen his pencil but that deserved well above passing marks, he thought. Even before the final testing, Zim had always been worthy. He was an excellent ship captain, a great marksman. He did, in fact, have the highest score on the shooting range, and the most versatile weapon ability. Hand to hand combat, laser swords, plasma guns, massive explodey-devices, mecha robots, he knew them all very well. Coming down the hall, he found, finally, the doors to the Tallest's temporary quarters on the planet. Before the doors, two guards stood at ease, spears in hand, faces hidden behind protective helmets.

"You two, step aside! I have some very important business with the Tallest."

The two guards gave an in-sync sideways glance his way before looking straight ahead again. The one of the left, taller, with a flatter head, said, "No one is to enter the Tallest's quarters unless called upon personal- _Hey!_ "

Zim hadn't been listening, striding forward and throwing his hands against the door to fling them open. Just as he did, both guards rushed forward and brought down two spears in a criss-cross.

"You can't just ignore someone like that! And I said you can't go in there!"

"Yes, you did say that, but _I_ have important business wi-"

"I don't _care_ what you think you have with the Tallest's!" The one on the right cried. "He said you couldn't enter!'

The one of the left squinted down at him. "Hey, wait a minute…. You're that Zim guy, aren't you! We specifically have orders not to allow you in!"

"You must have me mistaken with another Zim." Zim crossed his arms, then tilted his head.

"No, that's incorrect. I'm the one and only Zim, so, you must've heard them wrong. Perhaps they were referring to Invader _Sim_ or _Tim_ or Jim _or Kim or-_ "

"Enough! No, I am pretty certain it's you they warned us against," With the press of some button, the ends of the spears lit up in a terrible electric blue buzz. Zim startled, stepping back.

"Hey! I'm an Irken invader you know! You can't just-"

The one of the right opened a pad on his wrist, which flickered up a hologram of Zim. His little ID picture lit up, and beside it, a list of achievements. Or rather, a criminal record. Zim did not see the difference.

"Is this you?" The guard on the right asked. Zim narrowed his eyes at the rotating holographic of himself, taken years ago. He'd been tired that day and incredibly annoyed (he'd forgotten why) and so the picture was a little… Well… He could look better, not that he didn't look _great_ as it was. Zim raised his chin a bit, squinting still.

"... Perhaps,"

The guard smiled, smug, snapping the wrist pad shut. The hologram disappeared. "Well then, it's settled. You'll not be seeing the Tallest's today, now be off with you! You're annoying,"

"Yeah," The other muttered, " _Really_ annoying."

"Enough discussion of my annoying nature! Perhaps it would _move you more,_ if I were to, perhaps, remind you that I am an Inva-"

"Your ID says you're a _Food Service Drone._ "

Zim threw his hands into the air. "Ohh, this again. I have asked the Tallest time and time again to finally mend that mistake. I am an _Invader,_ I promise you, I simply once dabbled in, ehh, _food service work._ For the experience, you see." Zim waved his hand. The two guards shot each other a look. "An Invader's training is never done, of course, but- HEY, WHAT ON IRK IS THAT?!" Zim pointed, wildly to the right. Both guards jerked in the direction he pointed.

"What? What is what, what is it?!" As they looked, Zim rushed forward, slipping past them to grab the door's handle-

And then he was being jabbed in the side by one of the electric spears. The jolt of electricity threw him back at least seven feet and he skidded on his butt back down the hall.

"Ah- _ha,_ very clever," the guard on the right grumbled, coming forward, spear pointed at him. Zim scrambled back, growling. "as if you could've fooled us so easily,"

"Well," The guard on the left had joined him, "he _almost_ did,"

"You insolent _FOOLS!_ How _dare_ you try to electrocute the almighty _ZIM._ I'll get you for this, you know, keeping me away from the Tallest's… A punishment will be in order for this-"

"Enough! You never tire, you tiny, pestering Irken! Go! Or I'll get you again!" The guard had come close enough to jab him a second time and Zim's PAK legs shot out, skittering on the metal floor as they pulled him away. He rushed down the hall, turning far down the corridor until he was out of ear shot. Angry, he kicked at the wall, hard enough to dent the metal and send throbbing pain into his foot. "OUCH!" He hopped backwards, gripping his foot, his PAK legs losing their grasp on the smooth floor. They slid beneath him and he crashed painfully down.

Grumbling to himself, Zim slowly got back to his feet. He couldn't believe this! And still with that Service Drone business! He'd gone to every Irken Identification Division on the planet and each one had told him that the ranking couldn't be changed. To do so was illegal. Only a Tallest or Control Brain could change an Irken's ranking, and so Zim had sent a request to see the Tallest's about it… And then he'd sent another… And another… And another…. Sixteen during his time on Planet Conventia, and not a single response! He'd finally given up and called the Tallest's himself, and they'd promised to have it fixed by the morning. That had been four weeks ago.

He dusted off his uniform, crossing his arms and tapping one foot. Well, what the hell could he do now? He stared at the wall, then up at the ceiling, gaze passing over an air duct, some official Irken slogan in black along the-

Zim jerked his gaze back to the air duct, activating his PAK legs to raise him up, up until he coul peer into it. Steps from either direction of the corrridor made him yank a tool from his PAK, unscrew the dover and pry it carefully away. Scrambling like some insect, he climbed inside, hastily closing the cover behind him just before a group of Irken Invaders passed by, laughing together. Zim tuned gingerly to peer down the narrow, metal hallway. Perhaps he could find the Tallet' quarters from here? He crawled forward.

The air duct was tight, a bit claustrophobic and stuffy. For once, his small stature came in handy; his antennae barely brushed the ceiling as he crawled. Twists and turns to Irken bathrooms and janitorial closets led him nowhere, and he was about to give up when a familiar voice made his left antennae perk up. He paused, listening… Heard the words _'Tenn'_ and ' _mission', 'secret', 'vital,'_ , and began crawling as quietly yet quickly as he could towards it source. As it grew louder, he could see an air duct cover ahead. Pink light shone from it, and drawing nearer, Zim peered through. The room behind it looked cushion-y and comfortable .There was a snack bar before a long, long window which looked out to nearly all of Conventia's main city. He saw ships floating by and blinking lights; night had almost fallen and the sky was a purple, red color, like a sickly bruise. The sun was far enough away so that darkness always held Conventia, just some hours were darker than others. Within the room, amongst the sofas, trays of food and drinks, and a tall and long television, an Invader stood before Tallest's Red and Purple. Zim grinned, withholding a triumphant laugh. He leaned forward as close as he dared to identify the little Irken before them, face nearly pressed into the vent cover.

 _Is that… Invader Tenn?_

As he peered through the vent, Zim saw Red holding out a thin tablet. Invader Tenn took it carefully, gazing at it with awe-struck eyes. Zim hissed in annoyance. Had he been too late to hear the most vital details of this meeting? Outside, Red began to speak.

"All of the information you'll need will be in here, Devastis' coordinates, where he should be sent, etc," Frantically, as they spoke, Zim had a PAK leg silently remove a tablet of his own, bring it before him. He began tapping away. "In the case of any emergency, say, you come upon Resisty fighters, more coordinates for other planets you might temporarily stay until it's safe again. Head Scientist Membrane is very, shall we say… Possessive of his assistants,"

"In a flamboyant sort of way," Purple added behind him, lounging on a couch with a drink in hand.

"Yes. He's rather neglectful, too. And loud. Anyway, we'd advise you not to engage with any Resisty fighters, should you come into contact with any. They should be easy to outrun. They're all using older models of ships anyway…" Red waved a hand, dismissive. Zim watched intently, intrigued. Tenn was being given a secret, important mission! So that was why she had been skipped; the Tallest's had felt all the other listening Irken's (and Zim amongst them!) were too unworthy to hear of it. He narrowed his eyes, jealousy swimming through his blood. For an instant, Zim considered the chance that Skoodge had been right, that the mission would be shared between them, but then why had Tenn been called alone? _This mission was meant for_ me, Zim thought bitterly. Down below, Tenn gazed up at Red

"My Tallest's, forgive me, but this mission seems-"

"Too difficult?" Red's tone was deadpan. Tenn shook her head quickly.

"No, no, never, my Tallest's! Just- it's… Rather brief… Two days' time… I could easily be done sooner than that."

"Ah, I see." Red placed his arms behind his back, "Yes, we considered that, too… Thankfully, you do have another mission, an Invading Mission, if you are to complete this one proficiently,"

"Of course I shall!" She said eagerly, gripping the tablet close to her chest.

"Yes, yes, now you're dismissed. Good luck," Red raised his hand turning away. Zim gritted his teeth, annoyed. _Those stupid guards made me miss the most important part!_ Oh well, what did it matter? He'd downloaded all her mission info to his own tablet. As Tenn went for the door, Zim began to crawl backwards. He'd return to his ship, docked in a hangar somewhere, and set the voot's coordinates for where this… _Delivery_ mission needed him. He'd leave right away, before she could prepare- he wouldn't even waste time doing that! He'd wing it, and he'd wing it _good,_ and when he arrived on Devastis with whatever package or smeet or whatever it was he was taking safely from the Resisty fighters, drop it right at the feet of the Tallest's. Oh, he couldn't wait to see the surprise, the shock, the _amazement_ on their faces. They'd be so proud, and rightfully so.

Down below, Tenn had stopped at the doors where she turned, one claw against the handle.

"My Tallest, I am only curious…. But if I may ask, what of that Irken _Zim_? He was also skipped over this assigning." Her eyes were narrowed not in curiosity but in the way a listener might await the cruel end of a joke. She was grinning, a slimey, very Irken grin. Zim's antennae perked up in anticipation. He was desperate for any information regarding his future, secret mission. He did not notice how Purple snickered, how Tenn's grin became knowing. How Red made a steeple with his claws, smiling as well. An unsaid inside joke between them all.

"Oh, yes, Zim," Red sighed; just the mention of the tiny Irken sent a spike of annoyance throughout him. "He has no mission. In fact, he'll be sent back to Foodcourtia tonight after- hey, what was that sound?"

In his horror Zim had almost shrieked, clapping a claw over his mouth. In the vent, he peeled back, watching just barely over the ledge as Red, Purple, and Tenn looked about the ceiling or the source of the noise. _Back to FoodCourtia?! But- I can't go back there! There is no mission for me there! How could I ever prove myself as an Invader..!?_ Memories of vindictive customers and the heavy scent of frying oil came to him in waves, and he felt almost sick. _Foodcourtia! What a filthy, stinking hell hole of a planet!_ Zim gripped his own tablet tight against himself. Sweat beaded at his brow, his eyes wide. _This is a mistake..! It must be!_ Why wasn't he allowed to prove his prowess to them? A dawning sense of paranoia, anxiety, terror clung to him, making his antennae press against his skull. Why was someone always so willing to stand in his way

Below, Red shrugged. "Oh well. Anyway. That is all we need of you, Invader Tenn. You are dismissed."

She spun on her heel, chin raised as she pushed open the doors. As she did, Zim scrambled out of the vent, PAK legs tapping a bit too loudly against the narrow metal. He found a vent opening, kicking the grid cover. It flew across the corridor slamming into the other wall with a loud metal THUD as Zim fell down, landing on his feet. Just a Tenn was rounding the cover. She came to an abrupt halt, her own PAK legs extending to retrieve her tablet, hide it within her PAK.

"Zim! What on Irk are you doing out here?" She eyed the open vent above them, the vent cover on the floor, narrowing her eyes and drawing forward. "Were you _spying_ on me with the Tallest's? Do you realize I could accuse you of treason if I wanted..!?"

Zim glared at her, crossing his arms over his chest. Knowing all she'd heard made his head swim. "I have no idea what you're talking about _Tenn,_ " He spat her name as if it were some sort of insult, and after what he'd just heard he supposed he meant it that way. Fury boiled within him, misplaced and terrible. Certainly he'd missed some earlier comment made by her to the Tallest's encouraging them not to assign him any glory. "I was simply on a walk. I'm to speak with the Tallest's about my mission very soon. What are _you_ doing, hmm? Sneaking around the Tallest's quarters are you?"

Tenn's glare became deadpan as she straightened. Zim had not been around Tenn often in invader training; she was slightly older than him, almost a whole length of antennae taller than him, too. She was high strung, hard working, and dismissive of most of her other fellow Irken's, save for Larb whom she spoke the most with. Like he and Skoodge, she and Larb were hatchling mates. Still, Zim had sized her up throughout Invader training; she was strong, sure, a good Irken and a dominable soldier but he was Zim. And he was sure she'd conspired against him to the Tallest… Or something.

"Yeah. I'm sure whatever they've prepared for you, Zim, it'll be what your deserve-"

"Yes it will!" Zim shouted, leaning forward, fists tight. She didn't even blink. His hand was shaking when he pointed at her. "And when I receive my mission you'll see I could've done it all along, perhaps better than any of you could have! So much better! ANd you'll rue the day you'd ever _dared_ to insult the almighty _Zim-_ "

"I haven't even insulted you yet, Zim," She said, one hand on her hip. "Good grief, you never stop, do you? Now will you move? I don't want to be too late for the cafeteria before they close."

"Oh," Zim blinked, beginning to step aside before he recalled who he was talking to, "No! I don't care! You think you know so much, don't you-"

"You _were_ spying on me, weren't you, you wretched little parasite!" She drew forward, glaring.

"Perhaps I was! Perhaps I wasn't, but you'll never know!" But by now Tenn had come close enough to grip a fistful of his uniform, jerking him backwards. He snarled, furious.

"What did you hear, you _pest_?"

"Zim heard nothing! I know nothing of whatever you're-" She shook him, hard, and Zim brought up his claws to shove her away. Her grip was ironclad as she leaned forward, teeth bared.

"If you get in my way, Zim, I swear to _Irk._ I did not conquer Meekrob to be bothered by the likes of _you_ , a false Invader without a mission!"

"And yet the Meekrob still provide the Resisty with plenty of weapons! They're quite a splinter in the empire's side, I've heard, so much work for the Tallest's to clean up after. A fine job conquering them you did!"

"Shut up!" She hissed, PAK legs flying out to raise him higher above the ground.

"Get your filthy claws off of me!"

"I've no qualms with killing you, _Zim._ But I'd say you're less of a pest in my future now, given your circumstances," She'd begun to smile. Zim nearly sputtered.

"And what does _that_ mean?!" Although he knew, he knew what he thought she didn't, what the Tallest planned to do. She opened her mouth, revealing a row of glinting, grey teeth. "You _really_ think the Tallest's would-"

"Hey, what's the trouble over here?" One of the guards had come down the hall, hearing the commotion. Tenn dropped Zim, struggling wildly in her grip. He struck the floor with a painful thud.

"There's no trouble," She said, deadpan, PAK legs retreating to drop her cleanly to the floor on her feet. Zim growled, teeth bared as she turned from him, striding down the hall towards the cafeteria. Zim leapt to his feet.

"Fine! Flee since you're so intimidated by me, ZIM! But I'll prove it to you! I'll prove it and you'll _rue_ ever having offending the almighty-" But by now, she'd disappeared. Zim's voice, irritating and determined echoed off the empty hall walls and found no one. His teeth were gritted, his fists balled tight. He was shaking. Truly this was not how he'd intended to spend the night. ' _Oh yes, Zim. He has no mission.'_ He hadn't realized his antenna had begun to droop until they brushed his shoulders.

Perhaps they hadn't meant it? But then, why had it been said? Zim's mind fluttered with excuses, explanations, _anything._ There was nothing to do on this Irk forsaken planet, nothing! He couldn't stand it! And yet it seemed his Tallest intended on sending him back to Foodcourtia, where Sizz-Lorr ruled and made him wear that ridiculous mascot outfit filled with hot oil. He couldn't do that again, not when his potential as an Invader was so undeniable! Clearly their judgments were clouded! Yes, that was it! They simply didn't know of his prowess, his capabilities, despite the proof of it already from Impending Doom One! He would show them, yes, and they'd give him his mission. _After I've completed this first one, of course…._ Zim went to remove his tablet with Tenn's mission downloaded onto it when the announcing system suddenly clicked on above. "Attention all Invaders! Would Inva- I mean, Elite _Zim_ please report to the Almighty Tallest's _post haste!_ I repeat, Elite _Zim_ please report to the Almighty Tallest's _post haste_! Thank you!"

Zim's atennae shot up. Perhaps this was about his supposed exile again? He stared up at the ceiling, chewing at his bottom lip. Should he go..? It would be wrong not to report as he was being called, but if they tried to return him to Foodcourtia now, he'd never complete Tenn's mission before her.

 _I'll simply have to convince them I must not be exiled again._ The first time had been a fluke anyway, one he had, however, accepted. He was a soldier, he could take discipline, whether he deserved it, per se, or not. But a second time? He had to speak up for himself, and that was a skill Zim knew well. He was great with words. He straightened, shoulders thrown back, and raised his chin, looking quite serious. He lifted his communication device as he walked back towards the Tallest's quarters.

"Gir!" He hissed into the mic. Several beats and his SIR responded.

"Hi!" He had spent a year so far with Gir on Planet Conventia. He was still unsure as to how much help the SIR would truly be, although he'd yet had the chance to really use him for what he was meant to do. "Prepare the Voot for launch. We shall be leaving for our long awaited mission tonight, Gir."

"Yaaaaay!" Gir cried shrilly on the other line. "What are we gonna do? We gonna get snacks? We gonna get _snacks_ , Master!?" Zim cringed; he'd yet to become accustomed to Gir's terribly pitched voice. He likely never would.

"When we are finished we shall have more snacks than you can eat, Gir! Now prepare the ship!" Zim disconnected before Gir could finish replying on the other side, something loud and incomprehensible and meaningless anyway. He marched for the Tallest's quarters, confidence restored.


	2. Trouble on Conventia

_ON RESEARCH PLANET NINE_

As he threw the meager bag of belongings onto his desk, Dib tugged at it's zipper and dug inside. Amongst his field notes, his papers, his books, anything and everything to keep him company on a short, two day flight, buried far at the bottom was something the shape of a smeet's toy.

"Dib! Hurry up now! I have things to attend to!"

Dib glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah, I'm coming!" He'd worked hard to keep the object out of view as he pulled it gingerly, halfway out. It was wrapped in cloth several times around, and he unpeeled it slightly to insure the object, precious and delicate, looked as fine as it had the night before, when he'd swiped it from Head Scientist's Membrane's lab… Even the biting anxiety he'd felt then remained, just a sharp as when he'd done it.

What Membrane didn't know wouldn't hurt him, would it? _But he'd be furious if he learned…_ The item was in fine condition, he realized with anxious relief. He'd packed tools as well to work on the device. Dib crammed it back into his bag when he heard his name for the third time, slinging his bag over his shoulder hastily. It didn't matter, because he'd be at Devastis by the day after next anyway. And soon after that, Head Scientist Membrane wouldn't see him as such a troublesome apprentice anymore - Dib would have been proven right all along.

He darted out of the apprentice's quarters. He skittered down the labs long corridor and into the labs where, in a wide, spansive room, dark with only one light shining down on the head scientist, Dib came to a skidding stop behind a figure bent over a table at work. "I'm sorry, sir, I was-"

"Do you have all of your field notes?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Your books, your clothes, your tools, that little Vortian toy you've had since you were a smeet?"

"Yes si- wait, I haven't had that toy for decades now!" Dib pouted, slumping his shoulders. Membrane, bent over a work table, finally turned to face him.

"Ahh, yes, I am only _teasing_ you," He patted the top of his head, a condescending gesture Dib couldn't hate entirely. He leaned down, examining Dib. He was quite tall, the tallest scientist in the lab, and although that made him Head Scientist, Dib felt his smarts would've gotten him that title anyway; he was the brightest scientist Irk had to offer. "Are these all in order here?" He asked, referring to the blue goggles around Dib's head.

"Yes sir. And I have another pair in my bag."

"Very good. I believe I sent orders for you to be to kept out of combat, but remember, if you are attacked, there is no shame in hiding,"

"I wouldn't _hide_ from an enemy, sir," Dib said, furrowing his brow. "I have _training_ you know," He'd trained the same allotted years as most other Irken's, although when the decision was to be made if he'd become an Invader, a hardened soldier, a scientist, or anything else, he'd ran for the scientist option. He could fight and he knew he could've been a great Invader, too, but research, lab work, all of that just intrigued him so much more. And the empire was considering sending scientists out with Invader's to probe and research alien planets before they were conquered, to better prepare both the empire and the Invaders for what awaited them. Dib was eagerly awaiting the day that decision was made; to be held to such high glory as a Invader was a title Dib longed for.

"Of _course_ you do, Dib. But, you must be careful. You can't afford for them to become cracked while others are around. Now," Membrane rose up , standing just a few inches short of being a Tallest himself. This fact, this potential loss of power did not seem to bother him in the slightest, He spent so much time in the labs, nearly all of it, and hated to be dragged away from it. Usually, he found ways of having other's appearing in his place for meetings and such. Dib had done this before, though Membrane preferred to send out his hatchling mate and fellow assistant Gaz. "Where is our little escorting friend? Ah, I believe the time she might appear shall be coming soon,"

"When will you be leaving, sir?"

"Oh, tonight. I'll see the lab's final experiments taken away someplace safe, to ensure everything's where it should be before the lockdown." He gazed about the room. The lab felt a bit eerie so empty, although Dib had spent very late hours here wit the head scientist, watching over his shoulder as he worked, running back and forth with tools, vials, and droppers for him. The lockdown and subsequent evacuations had been called in the wake of Resisty trouble on the planets moon, where explosive and massive weapon prototypes were experimented with. Several things had been stolen and plenty of Irken machinery had been vandalized. But that wasn't the reason for an entire evacuation; one of the head scientists from the labs had been murdered amongst his assistants. The Tallest's had ordered the evacuation of Research 9's most important equipment, as well as of all it's brightest occupants. In the meantime, it would briefly become a battleground for the Resisty fighters bound to appear. "But, in the meantime, bring me that there alien splicer from the cabinet! There is still work to be done while we wait!"

"Yes sir!" Dib rushed off.

* * *

 _PLANET CONVENTIA_

When the Tallest's had encountered Zim in the first Great Assigning, they'd be shocked. Exiled to Foodcourtia, they'd hoped the traffic there would keep him infinitely busy. His determination to please his higher ups would translate to appeasing his fry-lord manager, Sizz-Lorr. Sending Zim to Foodcourtia had been like sending off a feral, rapid pet to be exterminated - except without the nostalgic sadness of what once was. Zim was never once helpful, never once a great Irken. His potential as a scientist, as an Invader, as a soldier, as anything was squashed by his unchecked ego and mania. Red and Purple had been greatly relieved and glad to be done with him… Until he'd come back.

They'd decided to try and use his presence for entertainment; they gave him a ruined SIR unit and random janitorial tasks around Conventia with the promise of something greater awaiting him. Of course, there'd been no such thing and they'd hope he'd either fuck up so badly he'd, 1) get himself killed, or 2) get himself exiled by someone else, but neither happened (as with Zim, nothing seemed to run in _anyone's_ favor). As the other Invader's had completed their missions and the canon sweeps had all been completed, the Second Great Assigning was held. Zim had re-appeared with a mop and his SIR unit, who kept running circles around Red and Purple's skirts and tried to climb under them. They'd promised him the same empty promise again; a secret, nonexistent mission. But this time, he hadn't been satiated. That had been the night before. Red had known what needed to be done now.

"You know, we should just keep a slurpee machine in here," Purple was saying from his couch, spinning his drink in his hand, the straw whirling. "It'd be so much easier and we wouldn't have to wait for Bob to show up everytime. He takes forever."

"Mm." Red wasn't really listening. A knock came to the door and he called for whoever to enter.

"My Tallest," A guard stepped into the room, wigging his antennae in salute. "The Irken Zim is here as you requested. Will that be all?"

"Have at least eight guards at the ready outside. I'll call for you when we need you,"

"Of course, my Tallest."

"Only eight guards?" Purple looked wary as the guard stepped out of the room. "It could take more than that with _him_ ,"

"We'll see," said Red, as the door opened a second time. Chest out, shoulders back, former Invader Zim strode proudly into the room, saluting stiffly. It seemed when he made his presence known the environment seemed to darken, foreboding some stupid, pitiful disaster. The doors closed with a clang behind him. Purple sipped at his drink loudly, the cup nearly empty.

"I've come as you've asked of me, my Tallest," Zim was smiling, his confidence overbright. Red almost scowled. Purple seemed to barely notice him, watching him through half mast eyes.

"Oh, yeah, we called for Zim. That was quick."

"Yes, well, I happened to be just outside," Zim said and Purple raised a brow in suspicion. "What is it you'd have of me, my Tallest?"

Red drew forward, feigning a polite smile. "We understand you've been awaiting your mission, Zim."

"Oh yes," Zim grinned, looking devious. "My secret mission. I am eager to please both of you, as you can imagine,"

"Yes, well," Red glanced at Purple, who rolled his eyes. _This should be good._ "To be honest with you Zim, we've decided it would best for your Invader training if you returned to Foodcourtia. Forever." He expected a scene. Disbelief and shock.

"Yess, I thought you'd say that,"

"Did you now?" Purple blinked at him. "Do you hear that Red? He knew we were gonna send him back to Foodcourtia," Red stared in bored surprise. How like Zim to come with unexpected news. Of course, Red had anticipated this as well.

"Yes sirs, but I've come with an even _better_ idea. Allow me to explain," A PAK leg was extending to bring him a tablet when Red interrupted.

"No, I think what we've decided would be best, Zim. You are the only invader with any experience uh, frying… Things. Doesn't that make you proud? And to continue your training alone, it would be-"

"Yes but that is hardly a mission, my Tallest!" Zim spoke very matter of factly, his tablet in his hands now, "I have been awaiting the secret mission you've promised me for over a year now, but I understand you need me to prove my abilities to you sooner. Which I understand! Only \the best should be given such vital, secret missions, and if you must know my prowess, then so be it-"

" _What_ prowess, Zim? What could you possibly prove to us now, after everything?" Red demanded, narrowing his eyes. A look of discomfort flooded into Zim's face, finally breaking that irritating confidence. He looked aside, antenna falling backwards just an inch.

"Ah, well-"

"No, no Zim, we are not interested in hearing it. You _quit_ your exile without permission. You realize that's not allowed, right?"

"Just tell him he's being exiled again!" Purple called from behind Red. Zim stared at both of them in wide-eyed horror; it was almost comical. Any mention of well deserved punishment and Zim looked the face of an innocent Irken - sort of. He was just always so _surprised._

"You can't be considering exiling me _again_..!? I haven't even done anything this time! And last time had been stupid, I did well in Impending Doom one! I-"

"You've been putting alien slime in the sporchy pudding for the last three months here!" Purple cried. " _Slime!_ Do you know how many Irken's have gotten sick? _Do you?!_ "

Red ignored Purple, raising his hand, speaking lowly, "It's true you've been quite the menace on Conventia since you came here, Zim, but I might chalk that up to a fault of our own for keeping you here so long. I'll have you remember, however, that your exile has yet to be officially called off, by _us,_ " he placed a claw against his chest, glaring at Zim, "you aren't being exiled _again,_ you are simply being returned to where you belong,"

"But, my Tallest," Zim drew his tablet close to himself as though for defense. "You two didn't expect me to miss out on a great assigning, did you?"

"Yes," said Purple plainly, "those were your orders. You weren't invited,"

"Orrr my invitation just got lost in the mail?"

"No, Zim. You weren't _invited._ " Red had said it before at the first Great Assigning, he'd said it plenty more times since, and _Irk_ was he sick of it, of Zim, of repeating such basic information. Any other Irken would follow obediently. Zim's obedience came with deadly fine print. "Regardless, we have guards to take you back, so you can go with pride, Zim, like the Irken soldier you _sort of_ are, or you can-"

"But that's just it! Zim is not a soldier, I'm an Invader! This isn't a mission, this is just- just exile!"

"Yes, Zim, that's what it's been all along!" Red shouted. "How moronic are you?! Guards!" The doors behind Zim flew open and Zim whirled, watching, horrified. "Please, take him away. We've had enough," Two of the guards drew forward, grabbed Zim by his thin arms. Zim struggled, looking furious, hurt, and betrayed all at once.

"Return him to Foodcourtia," Red said, "And ensure he remains there. Zim, you're lucky this isn't a trial. Otherwise things might not be going so well for you," He turned away, the matter finally finished with. Oh, to send Zim out with a tracking collar that would blow him up if he even tried to step away from the grill… Perhaps Red would have that commissioned and sent to Sizz-Lorr for Zim arrived. The fry cook would need help sending him there. _Or let him try to escape again and allow the Control Brains to decide his fate…_ Yes, that was a clever idea as well, and no doubt Zim would successfully escape a third time. By then the Control Brains would determine his functionality as an Irken. Perhaps they'd deem him _defective._ Red had had his suspicions since they were young, but to accuse another Irken of such a thing was heavy stuff.

Meanwhile, Zim squirmed out of their grasp, rushing forwards. Purple watched faintly interested from the couch, still sucking on his drink loudly.

"But My tallest this can't-"

Red spun, teeth bared, "Enough, Zim!" His voice rose steadily as he drew forward, pointing to Zim, who shrank. "You've always thought this was some little game, haven't you? You have been nothing but trouble for the empire since you were born! You're a _parasite!_ You are not an Invader, you have never truly _been_ an Invader, and you never _will be an Invader!_ And would you _QUIT BEING SO LOUD WITH THAT DRINK!"_ Red whirled to Purple and slapped the drink out of his hands. It flew, rolling over and leaking what meager contents remained.

"Hey," Purple whined, "I wasn't done with that yet!"

"Now take him out of my- where'd he go?" Red stopped short; the guards glanced around, confused.

The tiny Irken was nowhere to be seen.

Already far down the hall, Zim was scrambling as fast he could in the direction of the hangars. Just his fucking luck to have such a simple request shot down with an arrest! _Geez,_ the Tallest's could be so _blind!_ Red's words might've wracked his brain had Zim not been so distracted with escape. One PAK leg flew out and held out a communication device.

"Gir! Gir, answer me!"

 _"Yeeeesss?_ " Gir came a moment later on the other end. Zim opened his mouth but a red light flashed above him, the intercom springing on.

" _Attention all IRKENS. The Irken Elite_ Zim _is to be apprehended on sight. I repeat, the Ikren-_ "

" _Hey! That's you Master!"_

"Prepare the ship for take off, right now! Start the engine and make sure we aren't docked! We're leaving! Do you understand me!"

"No!" Gir cried, and hung up. Zim cursed and continued down the hall. The severity of the situation raged within him; how big were the consequences so his actions right now? How terrible would it be for him if he climbed into his voot and went on Tenn's mission _right now_? He wasn't sure, and so he tossed that concern out the window; for the time being, at least. He came to the hallway where the cafeteria doors were. At the last second, the doors flew open and Zim crashed splat into them, crushing his face.

"Oh-! Oh, hey there Zim!" Skoodge appeared on the other side of the door, bending forward to help Zim up. "I'm so sorry, had I known you'd be running from the authorities I might've tried to open the door slower. You alright?"

Zim gripped his face between two gloved claws as he allowed Skoodge to lift him up.

" _NO,_ I am not _alright_! Now get outta my way!" Just as he was trying to squirm away from Skoodge and dart down the hall, Tenn stepped out of the cafeteria, too. Upon seeing him, she grinned a slimey grin, placed hands on her hips. Zim nearly snarled in irritation.

"How's that secret mission going Zim?" She asked.

"You _shut up_! You planned all of this, didn't you?" One hand still held his face, the other pointed wildly at her.

"Planned it? Pff, no, but I wish I'd been that-"

" _DIDN'T YOU?!"_

"I said _NO, dumbass!"_

"H-hey now," Skoodge spoke between them, "let's-"

" _There he is!_ " A voice at the end of the hall behind Tenn and Skoodge made them jump, and Zim startled, stumbling backwards. He glared at Tenn as he got to his feet, a wicked grin spreading into his mouth.

"Whatever! Good luck on _your_ mission, Tenn! That is, if I don't complete it before you!" Zim shouted as he ran. Tenn's shit-eating grin quickly withered.

" _What did you say_?" She shouted shrilly after him, and finally a spike of determination, of some sort of triumphant flooded through him. Yes, he could do this,he could flee, because he needed to prove Tenn wrong, he needed to prove them all wrong. Zim didn't' realize he was laughing, nearly out of breath as he ran. A sort of panic switch had flipped on within him. He threw open the doors to one of Conventia's main halls, stumbling into the front entrance of the building. What little of the sun had been out was now nearly gone, and the sky was a deep, surpy purple and black. The cool night air struck his skin. His blood was thrumming wildly within in him, his breath came in quick gasps. As a soldier, moments of escape weren't new to him. He would be lying if he thought he didn't somewhat enjoy the ride, but amongst his excitement, terror was mixed in there, too. He couldn't let them drag him back to Foodcourtia. Not when he had so much to prove to them, not when he was so unworthy of such a punishment. Zim ran forward, shoving aliens walking home or to their duties aside as he found a crowd deeper down the street, towards the heart of the city. In the air, ships flew to and fro, and not far ahead, the hangars loomed, tall and busy with air traffic. Zim grinned and ran faster. Behind him, a shrill voice rang out.

" _ZIIM! GET BACK HERE OR I'LL CLAW YOUR GUTS OUT!"_ Zim threw a look over his shoulder in time to see Tenn, scrambling across the crowd on PAK legs, eyes furious and mouth twisted into a snarl. She was faster than the bumbling Irken guards in their heavy armor and spears, and PAK legs only made her quicker. Zim wound through the crowd, ducking and sliding beneath taller and wider aliens; he would never admit it but perhaps his miniscule height _did_ come in handy sometimes. He darted through the crowd, the familiar sound of clicking PAK legs following close behind. He was rushing towards an alleyway when a sudden bright ,green blast erupted at his left, just beside his foot. He nearly lost his balanced, his wn PAK legs activating on extinct to hurl him just a step out of the way. He kept running, but spun to see behind him as he did; Tenn, held above the crowd still clicked towards him, plasma gun in her right hand. She aimed it again and Zim doged the next, lethal shot, just barely.

The alleyway ahead of blocked with random massive garbage bins and abandoned trash. A ruined cruiser was gathering dust in the middle of the path ahead, a tiny home for alien vermin. Mentally, Zim went over everything he knew about Tenn, in regards to combat. Although they might not have trained together, he knew she'd even outdone Larb in the academy. She'd been one of the last to conquer her planet, but he did have to admit that Meekrob had been a special case with their involvement with the Resisty in mind. She'd been given her mission due to her superior use of disguises and espionage, plus her abilities on the battlefield. In Impending Doom One, before it's sudden end, she hadn't piloted any mechas or ships. She'd been on the ground. As Zim considered this fact, still running, about to hurl himself over the crashed ship ahead, a PAK leg wrapped expertly around his right leg. Not a split second later he was being wrenched back, flying through the ar before he struck a wall, hard.

His own PAK legs scratched against hers, and an end caught on her cheek, tearing the skin. A long line of magenta blood slipped from it and caught on her top lip as one of his PAK legs found a plasma gun to aim at her, just as she aimed hers. They stood that way, gasping, her just a foot lower than him as she held him up against the wall, he still grappling with her PAK legs; their guns aimed at each other's faces.

"You…. Annoying little… _Fuck,_ " she hissed between breaths.

"You can't kill me," Zim growled, "you'll lose… Your Invader status, and… your mission…!"

"You can't kill me _either,_ " he considered telling her he wasn't an Invader, he was a food service drone, but he kept that back considered it was less of a comeback and more of a further insult.

"If you take this mission, the Tallest's will be furious. They'll send people after you. _I'll_ go after you, Zim. Turn yourself in, and it'll go easier-"

"Never! You put it in the Tallest's head to keep me from my secret mission! Who's to say it wasn't _you_ who stole this from me in the first place!"

"I've stolen _nothing_ from you, Zim! Don't you understand, you never had a secret mission! The Tallest were just keeping you here so they didn't have to worry about you fucking up whatever mission they _could_ give you!" Zim might've shouted back, fury building up within in him so that he might've burst. But from the left something hard and squeaky struck Tenn's head, and it surprised her enough to make her loosen her grasp, stumble just a step to the side. Zim took the moment to unwind himself from her PAK legs and he sprung away, darting towards the crashed cruiser where, atop it, stood-

" _Must defend my Master!_ " Gir's eyes were bright red and he was preparing to hurdle not an explosive or anything truly useful, but another alien rat-thing.

"Gir! What are you doing here!" Zim hissed, grabbing Gir by the middle, hooking him under his arm as he leapt over the crashed ship. His boots struck the hard ground on the other side and he ran. Gir's eyes faded back to cyan and he looked up at Zim from where he hung limp.

"Look what I found! He's dirty!" Gir held up in one hand his alien vermin, a rat like creature with purple fur and big, bulging yellow eyes. Perhaps he'd unintentionally sent out a distress signal to Gir? Or maybe Gir had gotten bored and simply come to find him. _Just in time, then._ Behind him, Tenn was scrambling after him again, shooting, but he'd gotten enough of a head start as he threw himself out of the alleyway and back into another crowd, the hangar close now. Activating his PAK legs, Gir still hooked beneath him, he ran faster.

His ship was haphazardly parked between two much larger cruisers of the same model. Zim didn't have the monies or proper identification to receive new, _better_ upgrades to his cruiser, something he'd been in dire need of since he'd technically _stolen_ his ship from Foodcourtia when he'd left. The windshield flew up on his voice command, and he let go of Gir who crawled into the pilots seat. Zim hoped in after him, letting it shut loudly.

"Alright, good work Gir!" The ship was already alive and running, as he'd asked of him. He worked frantically at the dashboard, opening a map and radar. "We finally have our mission now,"

"Yaaay!" Gir chimed beside him, clapping. He put the alien-rat into the compartment in his head, smiling gleefully.

"Computer! Download mission information from my tablet!" He commanded. The computer obliged, the words _DOWNLOADING_ appearing on the windshield until it completed. "What are the coordinates we're being sent to?"

" _Research Planet Nine, sir,_ "

"And the package, what package, what are we escorting?"

" _Package?_ " The computer repeated dully. " _Not a package, sir. Irken Assistant to Head Scientist Membrane, Dib, is to be escorted to Planet Devastis."_

"Dib? Who is this ' _Dib'_?" Zim leaned forward suspiciously.

"Master, your friends are here!" Gir said gleefully behind him. Zim jerked his head around in time to see Tenn. Just second later, a group of guards, more than before had appeared, armed and angry, shouting. Within the ship, he could just barely hear the commotion of it. Overhead, within the hangar, an alarm had begun to blare. The hangar's entrance, gaping mouth that looked out into space above, was beginning to close. Zim hissed in panic.

"Nevermind! Take us to the Dib now!" The coordinates were set instantly and Zim gripped the ships toggles urging it forward. It crashed first into the parking marker in front of him, jerking them about, before it backed wildly up, wavering into the air. He barely missed another leaving ship as he rushed for the exit. He thought, distantly, of when he'd fled Foodcourtia for the first time; Sizz-Lorr had, of course, been furious, sent several ships after him. He'd nearly not made it, just as he did now; narrowly, as the exit ahead grew smaller and smaller, Zim leaned forward, gritting his teeth. Behind him, Gir was riled up, laughing and screaming all at once, gripping his arm and shaking him wildly. _Come on, COME ON!_ Couldn't the damn ship go any faster?! If they weren't quick enough, they'd-

They shot through the exit, just as it grew an inch too small for them, hurtling them ahead into the atmosphere. Zim laughed, half crazed, and Gir shrieked, perhaps unaware they'd made it. On the radar, Research Planet Nine blinked, hardly two hours ahead of them.


	3. The Dib

_A/N: DID YOU THINK I FORGOT ABOUT THIS FIC! I sort of did, but, I had, when I first began it, nearly five chapters already written, and I recently was looking it over again and decided to give it another go. I've been able to think a little further for where I want this fic to go again, and I've got some motivation again. Wish me luck! Thanks for waiting, if any of you have been. Feedback would be greatly appreciated! As I said way before, I've never written a long fic before and I'm honestly very intimidated by the idea of it still. Anyhow; thanks for all the positive reviews thus far, apologies for the wait, and please enjoy! Next chapter I'll probably post Monday or later this week._

The long, purple and black halls on Research Planet Nine's main weapon facility were quiet and abandoned. Most of the other scientists had left, and as the hours ticked by, the facility emptied until hardly a life-form remained. It was silent... Except for the occasional scribbling of notes from Dib who watched what Scientist Membrane did closely over the ruined PAK of a long dead, defective Irken. This was Membrane's main work; discovering the inner workings of a defective PAK, what corrupted the data, where that corruption _came_ from, and how it might be either reversed or taken out of the collective all across the board.

"It's rather late, isn't it?" Membrane said aloud, perhaps to himself. Dib nearly startled; there'd not been a word from either of them in what felt like hours. He looked up from his notes. Truthfully, he'd gotten pretty engrossed in what he'd been writing. Defective Irkens fascinated him; the Empire was so efficient, so perfect. Canon sweeps were done quickly, wiping out life on an entire planet in sometimes as short as a month. Dib had heard it could be done even faster. Research done on Planet Nine was constant and data was near always being fed back to the Tallest's, to the Massive, and to the Control Brains where it was downloaded and used to their advantage. Irken soldiers worked like a hivemind. Their weapons were of mass destruction. They were a force to be reckoned with. Yet somehow, cracks still appeared in the empire's impeccable design. An Irken with a corrupted data PAK might experience various ailments ranging from severe emotional and mental issues, to physical ones as well; blindness, hearing impairments, missing limbs, or an unreliable PAK unable to heal injuries properly. Although rare, their existence could be devastating, for the empire worked almost as one, and was certainly unprepared to deal with _any_ deviation from the norm. All it took was one thing to fall out of line for a mission to fall apart. Destruction caused centuries ago by defective Irkens had been what had urged Tallest Miyuki, almost a century ago to put time into Defective Research.

"Should I bring the communications back online?" asked Dib. For a moment Membrane thought, then shook his head.

"In a moment. Let's finish up here," he said, setting aside his tools to examine the segmented, open PAK before him. It's lights shone bright purple. Dib stood on his tip toes and leaned forward a bit to peer down at it. Within were millions of tiny, tiny wires. Most of them were so miniscule, they had to be seen through microscope goggles and fancy lens'. Little chips of information were wedged into the segmented walls that separated the PAK into three parts; motor functions, information, and processing. These chips were loaded with information at the hatching of every Irken. That information contained the whole of Irken knowledge - also known as the collective.

"Um," Dib looked between the PAK and Membrane. When he worked, the head scientist sometimes became very quiet and all Dib could do was try to keep up with whatever it was he was doing, take notes, and follow along. Right now, he wasn't all too sure what they were looking at except that this particular PAK had faulty motor functions and some issue with it's processing chips. "So what are your, uhh, thoughts? On this," Dib tried often to appear as wise and intelligent as Membrane, but instead he always came off awkward, unsure, or crazy. It depended on the circumstances.

"Hmm, well, this Irken certainly would've been an unhappy one, terribly anxious and jittery and problem causing. You can see here their processing chip isn't _damaged,_ but it's data is corrupt. They wouldn't have been able to process their thoughts well enough to respond to situations adequately." Membrane put two hands on his hips. "I think that's enough work for you, Dib. Shall we bring up the communications again to find your escort?"

"Sure," Dib found his bag on the floor near a table. He slung it over his shoulder, sorry for their time to be done. They hadn't gotten the chance to speak much, and Dib was always eager to please Membrane. Chances to do so rarely arose. The stolen thing in his bag suddenly felt very heavy. Dib glanced aside. "Will Gaz be on Devastis?"

"Oh yes. I'll join you both just shortly after you arrive. There's plenty of work we'll need to begin right away."

Dib held his notebooks tight in his hand, gazing up at Membrane who wasn't even paying him any mind; he was still hunched over the PAK on the table. "Well, I suppose this-"

He jumped at the sound of the double doors behind him swinging open, slamming into either walls.

"IS _THE DIB_ HERE? I AM HIS RIGHTFUL ESCORT HERE TO TAKE HIM TO BE, UH. ESCORTED." A voice, loud, overcompensating, and… _Traumatically familiar_ made Dib freeze, spin to face the entrance to the main lab. In the doorway was a massive shadow and attached to it, a very tiny figure. From so far away, he seemed the size of a bug. Then the Irken drew forward and Dib found he was hardly much taller than one; his antennae were short and his eyes were candy-bright fuchsia, the same color as his Invader uniform. His hands were pinned proudly to his hips and he grinned. Dib felt his spooch flutter not in awe, but in terror. He knew this Irken.

"Wait-"

"Ah, here we are," Membrane announced, suddenly behind him, and he patted Dib twice on the shoulder. "You have all your things, yes?"

"Wait, wait," Dib shook his head, mouth agape. He couldn't even speak. This couldn't be right, there had to have been a mistake. If the Irken ( _what was his name again? Oh, Irk, I can't remember-_ ) noticed his look of disbelieving horror, he showed no sign of it. "Wha… This… P-professor Membrane th-this can't- …. But _sir-_ " Dib was stumbling over his words frantically, turning once then twice to Membrane.

"Yes, yes, my good little assistant, we have already had our goodbyes, haven't we? Now, please do join our little, uh-"

"Irken Invader Zim, _sir,"_ Zim announced. He bowed his head slightly as if humble. _Zim._ Dread washed over Dib in waves.

"Was that who you were? I never caught the name of who they told me would be-"

"Oh yes, yes it was me," Zim waved his hand dismissively, his other placed against his chest. His grin was wide and prideful. "I've been the Dib's escort since the start!"

" _The_ Dib?" Dib repeated, glaring. His shock was slowly shoring off to be replaced with frustration.

"Yes, where is he? I'm afraid our time is short on this planet and we must be off to Devastis very soon."

"Right here," Membrane said and before Dib could squirm away, he placed both hands on his shoulders and scooted him forward until he was right in front of Zim. Before him, he found he had at least seven inches on Zim. Dib was stiff and unmoving. He would not go with this Irken anywhere. Never, ever. "Well now, Dib, I have much work to do before the lockdown begins, so please, be on your way-"

"But it can't be _him_!" Dib cried suddenly and Zim's wide grin finally melted away. "He- he's a disaster! Do you know what he did," his voice lowered to a whisper Zim strained to hear as Dib rushed towards Membrane, arms out, pleading, "he _ruined_ impending Doom _one,_ he'll get me killed!"

" _Non-_ sense!" Membrane laughed as he began to return to his work, "Our little friend here was given this mission by the Tallest's. Truly no _Impending Doom One ruiner would_ be given such a vital task!"

"I did not _ruin_ Impending Doom One!" Zim's voice was shrill, defensive, and Dib whirled on him to glare. "I made it _better_."

" _Better!?_ " Dib's voice was high. "You burned down half of our labs! You destroyed half the city, in fact! Do you know how many Irken's were _killed_!?"

"Oh, killed, _shmilled!_ If it had been such a failure, why would the Tallest's have sent me here, _hmm?_ " Zim leaned towards him.

"That's what _I'm_ trying to figure out,"

"Whatever." Zim crossed his arms. "Now, if you'll allow me, _Dib,_ I am to escort you, and it would seem you are _overstaying your Head Scientists welcome,_ are you not?" If Membrane cared he'd insulted his assistant, he gave no indication. Perhaps he hadn't heard. Dib turned to see him, perhaps searching for a defense, but it seemed the head scientist had already become enraptured in his work… Dib's antennae fell just a bit downwards and his shoulders slumped. Once at work, Membrane was usually impossible to bring out of it. He sighed. Zim tapped his foot, impatient. "Any day now," Dib rolled his eyes, then turned to Membrane.

"Um, farewell, sir! I'll see you on Devastis!"

"Yes, yes, of course," Membrane called dismissively from his work table. Distant as always, but what was it Dib even _wanted_ from him? He was an Irken, a solitary life form that was already acting a little out of line by insisting on assisting the same scientist for eight years now. That might have been little time to an Irken but it was still strange. Gaz got away with it because was indifferent, aloof, and bitter. Dib was… Was…

He sighed and turned to face Zim. "Fine. Let's go. Take me to your stupid ship." Huffing, Zim whirled and marched forward, stiff and formal, eyes closed. They stepped back into the hall where the big doors to the lab closed behind them. Dib swallowed his irritation away with the promise that he'd see Membrane and be back at work in two days time. If only he'd known, then, what was ahead of them. Still, he drew his bag closer to himself and almost smiled.

Ahead, Zim cleared his throat. "So, ah, there haven't been any… Transmission regarding my arrival here?"

"Transmissions?" Dib asked suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

"Oh nothing. Just. News of my coming arrival. You know. Because _I'm_ your escort. As ordered by the Tallest's."

"Uh, no? We got the message you were coming to escort me a day ago. Communications are sort of down here, with what a coming battle and all?" Dib glared at his back.

"Ah. I see." Zim nodded, seemingly pleased with this answer. Dib watched him with narrowed eyes. _Does he not remember me?_ He remembered Zim _very_ well. In the academy when they were perhaps 80 or so years old. Military weapons research, on this very planet, even. That annoying, grating laughter. An impenetrable ego. He waited for some quip in reference to those years...

Instead, Zim clapped his hands once, rambled on, "Now, as you can imagine, this mission is very important and it is _vital_ you do as I order, when I order it. Do you understand? I am your guardian now and without me, you are-"

"You're just _taking me somewhere,_ " Dib grumbled behind him. "It shouldn't take any more than two days."

"Silence! I am in charge here." He shouted and Dib recoiled, furrowing his brow. The corridor with it's dark purple walls and windows into laboratories stretched on for several minutes until they reached a winding, metal staircase. Zim's boots clacked loudly against the cement. Dib squinted. Was he wearing _heels?_

He shook the thought away, said, "The main entrance is _that_ way," he pointed with a thumb behind him.

"Yes, well, any Invader worth _anything_ would know not to park their ship somewhere so _obvious_ as the front lot. No, my ship awaits somewhere _hidden,_ " Down another staircase and and at a sharp turn, Zim brought them to a hulking metal door that read DO NOT ENTER. HEAD SCIENTISTS ONLY. It's latch was suspiciously missing, a smoking black mark in its place. Zim pulled the door open with effort. Dib did not offer any help and Zim held it, struggling, gesturing impatiently for Dib to step through.

"You broke in through the _employee hangar-_ "

"Of course I did! It was necessary, for your safety. Now go forward." Dib groaned, stepping past him as he struggled against the door. Once past, Zim leapt forward, and the door slammed shut behind them both. He clapped his hands together again, brushing the dust away, and marched forward.

The employee hangar was wide and spacious with a massive metal opening for ships to fly in and out of and quickly reach the atmosphere. Inside the hangar now, it was dark and largely abandoned. Most of the other Irken scientists had already evacuated as instructed by the empire. Within the next three hours, the building would go under total lockdown as soon as the last Irken left it. The entire thing would sink into the planets surface in order to protect the secrets and experiments done here until it was deemed safe again.

Zim came to an abrupt stop before a space marked for a "HEAD SCIENTIST MEMBRA-"

The rest was covered by his cruiser which had knocked part of the marker over. Dib stood before it, glaring down at the writing in disgust. With one command, the Voots windshield flew up, a little loading dock unfolding before them both.

Zim gestured for Dib to enter, a smug, formal look on his face. Dib stood at the ships loading dock and eyed the pilot's chair, then the small quarters behind _that,_ his fists tightening around his bag strap.

" _This_ is your ship?" Dib asked. Zim did not catch the disbelief in his voice.

The Invader placed two hands on his hips, grinning. "Yes. A beauty, isn't it?"

"This is _last century's model._ Why on _Irk_ do you have such an _old sh-_ "

"It is vintage, now _get inside!"_ Zim shouted, shoving Dib up at the loading dock where he stumbled, grumbling. He crashed into the pilots seat and scooted as far from Zim as he could as the other climbed in beside him. He was about to open his mouth to protest the small space when a cold metal hand gripped his forearm and he turned his head just in time for something with bright, red eyes to lean up and press against his face, screaming, "INTRUUUDEEER."

Dib screamed, falling backwards into Zim who grumbled, shoving him back. Meanwhile, the SIR's unit weaponry flew up from the metal plate atop his head: plasma guns, laser beams, explosives, anything he seemingly had… Before they reverted into a gentle cyan color and he waved, saying "Hi!" as he caught Zim's eye.

"Gir! Put all of that away! Do you want to destroy us all?!"

"Yes!" He cried, the weapons all folding in on themselves despite their size, disappearing again into his head.

" _That's_ your SIR unit?!" Dib hissed in a panic, clutching his chest.

" _Yes,_ " Zim said defensively, "what of it?"

"He seems-"

"Perfectly normal! He is perfectly normal, Dib, now," Zim reached for the safety belt and stretched it over both of them. Dib scowled as he reached over him. "This trip will take a meager two days, but pay attention and perhaps I shall get us there _earlier._ And then Zim shall be free of you-"

"You mean _I_ will be free of _you-_ "

"No! I do not. Now, keep quiet so I can concentrate."

Dib crossed his arms tightly over his chest. The other Irken was pressed close beside him. To his left, the SIR unit named Gir was squished, too. It looked up at him with wide, cyan eyes.

"What do you want?" He asked bitterly.

Gir reached into his head and removed from it a squirming, stinking alien-rat. Dib recoiled, grimacing. "Look what I got! He's my friend!"

"Must we sit so close to each other!" Dib demanded as he shoved back into Zim. He was hunched forward over the dashboard, pressing buttons. The radar on the windshield showed a busy screen, no doubt from the traffic high above them outside the hangar. Dib watched Zim regard it with concentrated, wary eyes. "I mean, did they really give you such a tiny ship to escort me with? And what's with that?" He pointed to the radar where a single dot, indicting a nearby ship, had been customized with an Irken skull icon to follow it. Zim gritted his teeth in a grimace and hissed, muttering something under his breath.

"It's nothing! Now quit complaining!" Still, Zim looked tense. Dib felt suddenly very nervous; he'd worked hard in the academy, he'd even _been_ on a battlefield before… But that had been a very long time ago. He hadn't even so much as held a gun in _years._ He was faintly aware that Planet Nine's evacuation was due to an _emergency._ The Resisty were targeting scientists, were stealing weapons, had even kidnapped several Irken's they'd caught here, and not to mention the recent murders... The military presence on Planet Nine had upped a hundred percent. He was finally beginning to realize just how tense he'd been the past couple of days... He clutched his bag tighter to himself, feeling the precious stolen device within it. It felt hot and obvious, like it could be seen through the purple tinted windshield.

"Is it a Resisty ship?" he asked cautiously. Zim glared at him in surprise for a moment, scowling… Before he grinned.

"Why? Are you _scared,_ Dib-Thing?"

"No! I was just wondering!" He _had_ to recall Dib now. He had to. Dib remembered that shitty nickname.

"Well, do not fret, because I, Zim, am an impossibly fine Invader. We'll be on Devastis before you know it," Smug, Zim had the ship started up, and quickly were they in the air, outside of the hangar. Perhaps he didn't remember him.

"Aren't you going to put your communications online?" Dib gestured to the radar where the top of the screen read, _OFFLINE._ He'd recalled in his military training that every Irken soldier was instructed to have their ship online at all times the ship was running. This ensured the Armada to know the location of every nearby ship during a battle, or at any given moment. In fact, most ships could not even turn their locations off, unless they were Invader cruisers. Even so, this wasn't just any planet; this was Nine, and there was no reason to be offline, hiding, here.

"Are you _mad_? And let any possible nearby enemy know our location? No! We are offline, as, ehh, instructed by the Tallest's. No one is to know of our location." He waved his hand. "Consider yourself special. A special escort. Yes."

 _Ah._ Dib felt weirdly flattered. He nodded quite seriously and sat back a bit. Even so close to the Invader he decided he could busy himself watching Nine disappear outside. Zim flew quite fast, zipping expertly by other ships and towards the atmosphere. His eyes kept darting to the radar, until the little ship with the skull disappeared. When it did, he relaxed noticeably... But now, Dib felt restless. He had known about this whole escort ordeal for the past several days, and yet he'd treated it like some sort of vacation. Now he just felt terribly fearful. And of course, Zim's presence didn't help it. _But it will only be two days. Two days and then I'm on Devastis._ That wasn't so long, and if Zim had really forgotten him since the academy, then he could survive this trip.

Dib drew his bag closer. Of course, there were other factors to his anxieties, too. Perhaps it was a good thing Zim left his communications off. Membrane would do a final sweep of the facility and notice that something of vital importance was missing. At least he could not contact them about it later on. Dib would just have to wait for a reaction on Devastis.

Beside him, Gir had begun to grip his right arm, watching the passing scenery with him. He rolled his eyes.

Perhaps he could survive two days of this…


End file.
